


The New Rules

by cjmarlowe



Series: Friendly Competition [5]
Category: Diving RPF
Genre: Double Penetration, M/M, Sex Toys, kink bingo, other side of the pond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 04:31:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/618092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjmarlowe/pseuds/cjmarlowe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Riley doesn't actually think Tom will seriously consider attending ASU, but that doesn't mean they can't enjoy their time together while he checks it out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The New Rules

They call the seasons other things, but the truth is that it's always summer in Arizona, to Riley. The temperature ranges from hot to hotter and he's very glad that he doesn't spend his actual summers there, when the temperatures soar to extremes he's not sure that human beings are meant to endure.

He's pretty sure they say the same thing about winter temperatures in Canada, but Riley's from Victoria where, basically, it's beautiful all the time. Mostly he just lets it all roll of his back because he doesn't expect anything else, and it's kind of like having a little secret refuge in a place his friends think is inhospitable. Like Superman's fortress of solitude.

At least both places give decent golf.

So it's on a very hot afternoon in what is technically _not_ summer, not even close, when he's lying on his bed and praying that the rattling air conditioner won't croak that he hears from Tom again. Not that they stay in touch so rarely, but Tom's communication is usually via text or email; it's not often either of them call.

"I'm going to be in North Carolina next week," he says. "Durham. Can you come?"

Riley gets the gist of it without Tom ever spelling it out. "Duke?" he says. "You don't want to go to Duke. There are better diving schools out there."

"That's not the only thing I'm looking at," says Tom. "What about Palo Alto, California? I'll be there a few days later."

"Stanford? Really?"

"Academics matter to me!" said Tom. "I want to get a good education."

"What, unlike me?" says Riley. "Is that what you're saying?"

"I'm not saying that," says Tom quickly. "Obviously I'm not saying that. I'm _saying_ that as long as I'm on the same continent as you..."

"Come here," he says, and goes on before Tom can protest. "You're checking out good schools. This is a good school. You can meet the coach and let the boosters cream themselves over you and spend the weekend at my apartment."

"I'm not sure..."

"It's a great idea and you know it," says Riley, "and it'll be an unofficial visit so nobody can get up in arms. You can come to me this time."

"As long as I'm in the area, it can't hurt to check out an extra school or two," Tom says finally, and Riley wonders who he's trying to convince. "Save some travel costs later on."

"If that's how you need to spin it," he says. He doesn't actually think Tom will seriously consider attending ASU—he thinks it's still more likely, despite the funding that goes into American athletics, that he'll go to university back home. But that's really not the point. "I'll see you in, what, two weeks?"

"I'll let you know," he says, but as far as Riley's concerned, it's a done deal.

It's almost two weeks to the day later that they're playing pool at the sketchy place three blocks over from Riley's apartment, after a tour of campus and a beer with Riley's friends.

"I have no idea how you talked me into this," says Tom. "You know I don't stand a chance, right?"

"I've heard that before," says Riley, "right before someone sharks me. I don't believe a word out of your mouth."

"Ever?"

"Except when you're telling me I'm awesome," says Riley. "I believe that part."

"Have I ever told you you're awesome?"

"You will later," says Riley smugly. He really does think Tom is underplaying his skills, but Riley is still going to win this thing, and he knows exactly what he wants.

"Yeah, we'll see about that," says Tom, and breaks.

Riley doesn't gloat when he wins. Well, he does a _little_ , because he _wins_ , but not in an obnoxious way. Not really.

"I told you I didn't stand a chance," says Tom. "If you'd challenged me to something we were evenly matched at..."

"Oh, whatever," says Riley. "You held your own the whole time. Don't be a sore loser." The truth is, though, he suspects maybe Tom wanted to lose this one. That maybe, for a little while, Tom doesn't want to be in control. And Riley _knows_ how hard that is for him to give up, so he doesn't take it lightly. 

It wouldn't be like it was last time. He doesn't think Tom could let go that much, or would want to. Not yet, anyway. Even now, weeks later, Riley's a little surprised that _he_ was able to let go that much. And even more surprised that he would do it again.

It's cooler when the sun's down, enough that they can enjoy the walk back to Riley's apartment. It's nice because they're certainly producing enough heat of their own, and they're not even touching. Riley's not ashamed of this thing of theirs, but he certainly doesn't advertise.

"You said once that you have a lot of things in your apartment that could tie a guy down," says Tom, and Riley nods.

"Is that where you think we're going with—"

"Does that mean you have other interesting things, too?"

"I have a lot of interesting things," says Riley, "and very few of them are rope."

His air conditioning is hanging in there, only intermittent rattling interrupting the quiet of the dark rooms. Riley isn't used to it being so quiet, but he's glad that there's no welcoming party here ready to stay up all night with them. They can do that tomorrow. He has other plans for tonight.

"In here," he says, and takes Tom by the wrist and leads him into his bedroom. It's oddly intimate, in the quiet and in the dark like this. Riley feels like he should kiss him, maybe say something sweet, and it's an awkward feeling because that's not really who he is but it's a nice feeling too. Like it's something he _could_ do, and it would be okay.

"On the bed?" says Tom, and Riley almost says no just to be a smartass, but that would just waste time.

"Do you want me to turn a light on?"

"Not unless you need to find the rope," says Tom. Riley's blinds are open so he can see enough to see Tom's smile.

"I've got something else in mind," he says, and while Tom gets on the bed, smoothing the wrinkled bedspread beneath him, he starts rummaging around in his closet.

"Is this going to be a fetish thing?" says Tom. "This is going to be a fetish thing, isn't it."

"Yes, I'm going to make you lick my shoes," says Riley, head still buried in the closet.

"Really?"

He's tempted to pull one out, just to see how far he can carry this, but all he can find is a sneaker with a hole in the toe and that's just too gross, even for him. He doesn't want tonight to be over before it starts.

"No," he says, poking his head out again, "but I might find something else to put in your mouth."

That shuts him up for a moment. But just for a moment. "I'm looking forward to that," he says, and he says it flippantly but Riley can hear the truth in it. He's not a sensitive soul, he doesn't always do a good job of gauging people's feelings, but when it comes to Tom and sex it's like he's developed a sixth sense. Or maybe he's just getting to know him that well, when it comes to this.

"You don't want to know what I went through to get this," he says, throwing it on the bed once he finds the box he stashed it in. Because he might be pretty comfortable with what they're doing, when they're alone, but he is not—repeat, _not_ —going into a sex store to buy anything. Especially not a dildo. No way, no how.

"Oh, I absolutely _do_ want to know," says Tom. "Internet?"

"Internet," confirms Riley, because sure he has good friends but if he was in a position to ask a friend to do it, he'd be in a position to do it himself. "I'm going to take your clothes off now."

"I think I can—"

"I'm going to take your clothes off now," says Tom again, a little more firmly, and Tom's hands fall away from his buttons.

Riley might know Tom won't let go, not entirely, but he can get him to let go of the little things, let go of control over every part of what he looks like and says and does, for a little while.

He doesn't go slowly, not slowly enough to make a show of it, anyway, but slowly enough to assert his control, and to give Tom a chance to give it to him.

"So which one of us is the plastic cock for?" he says as Riley pulls his own shirt off. "Since we've both got one already attached."

Riley picks it up, presses it to Tom's lips, and waits quietly until he parts them so Riley can slowly press it inside. Tom's eyes are wide, like he can't quite believe he's doing that, but he's definitely wholly participating. His tongue darts out, just along the underside, and Riley feels it like Tom is already going down on him.

"Take more," he says, one hand still on the base of the dildo and the other reaching down to unbelt his jeans, push them down unevenly, one leg then the other, till they're low enough to shimmy out of and then kick off onto his cluttered floor.

It goes deeper into Tom's mouth and he leans back on his elbows, doesn't try to grab hold of it, doesn't try to pull it out or push it in or go at any pace other than Riley's. He's not just holding it and tonguing it, he's sucking on it now, lips and throat working, and Riley can't stop watching him. This is exactly what he wanted, this is what he hoped to see when he won tonight and decided what he wanted to do. (No, he'd decided what he wanted to do long before he won.)

Basically, even before watching Tom suck on the fake cock but especially now after it, Riley just wants to fuck him, the way he _couldn't_ before. He wants it hard and a little wild, and not to have to worry about the afterwards. That's his fantasy. To have each other without having to think of other people.

"I want to..." he starts, then he's letting go of the dildo, now firmly held in Tom's mouth, and reaching down to spread his legs. He wants him like this, on his back, sucking on that cock with Riley buried inside him. He wants it exactly like that.

Tom can't answer, but he lifts his knees and god, that's hotter than he'd even imagined it would be. Riley's been at a low simmer for hours but it's really coming to a head now.

The internet is good for more than just sex toys in plain brown wrappers, and it _swears_ that this is the best lube on the market (Riley doesn't really have a lot of basis for comparison) and he uses it liberally as he pushes his fingers inside of him. Tom makes noises, muffled by the dildo, and squirms against him, and then pushes _down_ so that his fingers sink in even deeper.

It's a struggle after that to keep it slow and steady, to be _careful_ because this isn't something they really _do_ and even if it was, it's been a while since they've been together at all. But Riley makes sure he's ready for it when he finally moves between his legs and lines himself up and pushes himself inside. And all the while Tom is sucking on that cock (and grinding his teeth against it from time to time, if Riley is any judge, but that's the beautiful of silicone as opposed to flesh).

It's so tight and so good and even before he starts thrusting he reaches up and brushes the fingers of his free hand against Tom's lips.

Then, as he starts to move his hips, he shoves his fingers in alongside the dildo, feeling Tom's lips stretch around him, saliva slicking them almost immediately. He just wants to get them deeper, feel Tom's tongue, feel him try to swallow around it, the tightening of his cheeks and throat.

He imagines, some day, using his cock and the dildo in the same hole, thrusting up against the dildo already stretching Tom out. He has to bite his lip to keep from coming, squeeze his eyes shut and stop moving, just for a moment. But Tom won't _let_ him stop moving and he won't let him keep his eyes closed, shifting his body and making little noises and asserting that little bit of control to get what he wants.

So Riley just goes for it, wraps a hand around Tom's cock and starts thrusting into him and lets Tom suck hard against the dildo, against his hand, and he doesn't stop, he _doesn't let up_ , even though his hand aches and his back aches and his legs are shaking because it's right there, it's _right there_ , and with one more thrust he finally comes.

He sucks in a huge breath and his body shakes and Tom sucks even harder, tongues over his fingers, and Riley remembers to keep jerking him off, those few more strokes to bring him over the edge until they're both in a sticky, messy heap.

Riley extracts himself in stages, pulls his fingers out first, then his cock, then gently removes the dildo from Tom's mouth. Tom sucks in a huge breath, coughs a little, then grins at him. And Riley knows he should be the gentleman and clean them and make them comfortable, but instead he just chucks things out of the way and stretches out in the bed next to Tom.

They both need a little while to catch their breath.

"That was...pretty spectacular," says Tom, and Riley just huffs out a laugh of agreement. "And you deserved a win, since you weren't going to get one any other way." Riley gives him a friendly elbow in the side. "But I was thinking."

"Yeah?"

"Maybe next time we can just...hook up," says Tom. "You think maybe we can do that?"

"We're talking about next time?" Because it's one thing to assume, to follow the pattern, but this might be something else.

Tom shrugs. "I don't know what school I'm going to end up at, but it might well be over here," he admits. "Maybe not _here_ , but...."

"Close enough," says Riley. It's too much to hope that Tom is actually considering being a Sun Devil, but he won't say the thought had never crossed his mind. It's nice to know it's still on the table. "And even if you don't."

"Maybe we don't need an excuse," says Tom. "It's getting a little hard to top every time."

"You have to admit, it's been fun, though," says Riley, which he thinks is as good as a yes. A _yes, please, let's do this, let's not wait, let's not make rules, let's just hands-on every chance we get, yes_. Because there will still be special occasions, but what makes occasions special is the anticipation of something out of the ordinary.

"It's been loads of fun," agrees Tom, "but from now on, if we do this, I think it'll be even better."

When Tom starts running his hand down Riley's chest, Riley finds he really can't argue with that.


End file.
